"Night Prayer"

I was inspired by a gorgeous sunset we had the other day, followed by a crystal clear starlit night, to write this poem.  I thought I'd share it with you.

"Night Prayer"

I sit and watch the wheat fields roam
Up to the opal sky,
While clouds drift ever, ever on;
Their souls the sun ignite.

The day draws to a fiery close,
And night gathers gently in,
As one by one, the stars appear
And in the vastness spin.

The prairie wind dies slowly down
With a whisper and a sigh.
The silence of th'unbroken sound
Of stillness gath'ring nigh.

It is then the Lord speaks to my heart;
I feel His Presence there.
He banishes all the daytime woes
And leaves me without a care.

Oh, God of sunset, cloud, and flame,
Of peace and silence, too,
Abide here in this heart of mine;
This weary soul renew!

The Gift of Children: A Gift of Time

Today, I read a blog post by a young man who just lost his baby daughter a few months ago. He and his wife and an older daughter have been left to grieve...and rejoice in the life of baby Abigail Hellmer. Abigail's father reflects regularly on how much this little baby inspires him; she inspires him to appreciate life in ways he never imagined before she came along, however briefly (she had a rare disease that left her with an uncertain amount of time to live; she lived 118 days).  As I thought about this little family, their beautiful faith in God, their amazingly grateful hearts, and how they continue to embrace life in the face of their grief, as I've read the stories of others that have faced similar losses of their children, I have found myself changed.

When I was almost two years old, my baby brother died of a complication with whooping cough, and I grew up witnessing my parents' intense grief, an intensity that lessened only very gradually with time. I've realized, looking back, how much that grief impressed an anxiety about death on me, especially the death of someone I love. When I started having children, I suddenly realized how precious they are to me, and how horribly it would tear me apart to lose them. I can certainly appreciate my parents' grief better now. Over the past three and a half years since my first daughter, Rose, was born, I've had many instances of anxiety and fear of losing my children, fear of them ever suffering, fear of the pain of watching them suffer.

 After watching the journey of the Hellmer family (the family mentioned above) and the journey of another family, the Schmidts, that lost their little baby girl only an hour or two after she was born (this was something they knew was likely coming and had prepared for it as much as they could), I have found my anxieties lessened considerably.  The Hellmers and the Schmidts have strove to look at what they can take from the brief time allotted to them with their little girls: the gift of time.  They have learned that these little ones are a gift to us from God.  We are called to care for them as long as the good Lord allows us, to treasure that time, and to remember that they belong first and foremost to Him, our Creator.  The longer I've read about these families' experiences from their own perspectives, the more this knowledge that all our lives are GIFTS, including the time we have with our loved ones, the more it has sunk from my head to my heart.  It has immersed itself into the entirety of my life, and I find myself valuing my children much more deeply than I ever thought possible.  Middle of the night puking (a recent occurance) and middle of the night bottle needs have become insignificant in the demands they make on me and significant in the realization of how precious the moments are that I have been given to shower my children with love.

It is in this gift of time, in this gift of NOW, that I have with Rose and Ana that I can give them what I ought: unceasing, unconditional Love.  That is my calling.  It is my duty.  It is my joy.  And I will treasure every moment I have been given.

PS Please check out my list of favorite websites/blogs to see the stories of the Hellmer and Schmidt families.